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MEMOIR 


JOHN  H.  ALEXANDER,  LLD; 


BY  WILLIAM  PINKNEY,  D.D. 

Uorrespondinr/  Member  of  the  Maryland  Historical  Socicti/. 


READ    BEFORE    THE 


'§Rarpf<m&  historical'  Society 

On  Thursday  Evening,  May  2,  1867. 


PRINTED  FOE  THE  MARYLAND  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY. 
BY  JOHN  MURPHY,  BALTIMORE,  1867. 


MEMOIR. 

No  ONE  could  feel  more  painfully  than  I  do  the 
embarrassment  of  the  position,  which  I  am  called,  by 
your  too  indulgent  kindness,  to  occupy  to-night;  or 
more  sincerely  regret,  that  the  duty  had  not  devolved 
upon  another,  better  qualified,  by  habits  of  thought 
and  literary  tastes  and  pursuits,  to  discharge  it  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  your  deceased  comrade  and  your- 
selves. 

He  was  my  friend,  and  for  full  forty  years  no 
shadow  ever  rested  on  the  stream  of  our  friendship. 
Not  so  much  as  a  transient  cloud  crossed  the  horizon 
that  bounded  it.  Fresh  as  the  first  dewy  breath  of 
the  morning,  that  broke  on  its  birth,  was  its  peaceful 
close. 

You  know  how  difficult  it  is  for  friendship  to  rise 
above  the  weaknesses  of  our  nature,  and  wield  a  pen 
with  the  strict  and  stern  impartiality  that  historic 
truth  demands.  To  delineate  any  character,  that  is 
at  all  worthy  of  delineation,  is  difficult  —  so  difficult, 
that  but  few,  who  have  added  to  the  treasures  of  Lite- 
rature in  other  respects,  have  succeeded  in  this,  one 
of  its  most  attractive  and  important  departments. 
Hundreds  can  paint  battles,  draw  the  picturesque  in 
nature,  and  color  them  exquisitely,  while  but  few  can 
give  you  discriminating  and  faithful  portraitures  of 
the  men,  who  were  the  controlling  genius  of  the 
scenes  described.  Plutarch  holds  the  first  place 
among  the  painters  of  men,  and  his  magnificent 
cartoons  will  live,  as  long  as  the  world  appreciates 
the  grandeur  and  glory  of  the  chief  actors  in  its  his- 
tory ;  and  it  is  really  marvellous,  how  he  contrived 


511693 


to  rise  above  the  force  of  individual  and  national 
prejudice,  and  preserve  a  strict  impartiality  in  the 
parallel  characters  he  described.  Who  then  of  us 
can  fail  to  shrink  from  the  attempt  to  tread  a  field 
of  literary  adventure,  so  difficult  to  cultivate  and 
till? 

If  this  be  true  of  the  delineation  of  character  gene- 
rally, how  much  truer  is  it  of  the  delineation  of  such 
a  character  as  Professor  ALEXANDER'S  ?  The  truth  in 
his  life  is  more  wonderful  than  fable ;  and  the  mere 
recital  of  the  facts  that  made  it  so  memorable  has  so 
much  the  air  of  romance,  that  to  those  who  knew  not 
the  deceased,  it  may  appear  to  be  either  the  blind  adu- 
lation of  weak  friendship,  or  the  coloring  of  an  over- 
wrought and  dreamy  imagination. 

Criticism  has  been  levelled  against  biographers  or 
sketchers  of  character  with  all  the  venom  of  its 
nature ;  and  while  it  is  true,  that  much  of  what  is 
called  biography  is  a  fair  subject  of  scathing  rebuke, 
on  the  ground  of  excessive  eulogy,  it  is  not. true  that 
panegyric  is  reprehensible,  or  inadmissible,  in  the 
etching  of  the  lights  and  shades  of  character.  It  is 
as  often  the  case,  that  criticism  itself  is  wanting  in 
just  discrimination,  and  as  prone  to  accept  the  vaga- 
ries of  its  own  fancy  for  fact,  as  it  is,  that  eulogy  is 
occasionally  found  to  overstep  the  boundaries  of  truth. 
To  be  justly  worthy  of  censure,  the  panegyric  must  be 
excessive.  I  do  not  profess  to  be  above  the  weak- 
nesses of  our  common  nature.  But  I  do  desire  to  be 
truthful.  I  shall  not  complain,  if  I  am  only  judged 
by  my  facts,  in  the  estimate  I  have  formed  of  the 
deceased.  If  what  I  shall  say  in  praise  of  him  be 
true,  and  you  find,  upon  reflection,  that  it  is  only 
praise  merited,  you  will  not,  I  am  sure,  condemn,  but 
rather  applaud  me  for  my  truth. 


To  overdraw  the  picture  would  be  a  wrong  to  biog- 
raphy, a  wanton  sacrifice  of  that  which  constitutes  its 
greatest  charm,  viz. :  stern  impartiality.  But  to  con- 
ceal the  really  attractive  features  of  the  picture  for 
fear  of  giving  edge  to  criticism,  and  exposing  oneself 
to  the  flippant  charge  of  excess  of  admiration,  is  a  not 
less  grievous  wrong  to  the  character  we  are  required 
to  draw,  and  not  less  subversive  of  the  great  end  that 
biography  has  to  serve,  the  rescuing  from  oblivion 
the  past,  which  illuminates  and  foreshadows  the  pres- 
ent. To  attribute  qualities  to  men,  which  they  do  not 
possess,  is  an  insult  to  the  intelligence  of  the  living, 
and  a  weakness  to  the  memory  of  the  dead  ;  while  to 
overlook  them,  or,  for  the  sake  of  escaping  from  the 
scalpel  of  a  ruthless  critic,  to  permit  them  to  pass 
unnoticed  is  to  insult  the  dead,  and  is  by  far  too 
costly  an  offering  to  be  laid  on  the  altar  of  preju- 
dice. The  Scylla  and  Charybdis  are  before  us ;  and 
all  the  skill  of  the  navigator  is  needed  to  steer  us 
safely  between  them.  It  will  be  my  duty  then  to  see 
to  it,  that  I  give  you  no  occasion  to  use  the  scalpel ; 
and  yours,  that  you  do  not  arraign  me  for  my  truth, 
or  censure  me  for  the  manly  assertion  of  all  that  is 
due  to  my  facts. 

Forty  odd  years  ago,  on  the  banks  of  the  Severn, 
the  waters  of  which  have  become  well  nigh  classic  to 
Maryland,  where  still  echo  the  tones  of  a  lofty  elo- 
quence and  unsurpassed  legal  logic  —  I  met,  in  close 
companionship,  a  youth  then  in  the  very  bud  of  his 
being.  He  was  not  the  child  of  fortune.  The  cradle 
in  which  he  was  rocked,  was  made  of  sterner  stuff ; 
and  the  winds  that  blew  over  it,  were  not  summer 
zephyrs.  Like  most  of  the  great  men  of  the  world, 
his  wealth  in  the  start  consisted  of  a  brave  heart  and 
strong  will.  At  that  early  age,  he  was  tall  and  slen- 


der,  extremely  diffident,  rather  awkward,  and  retiring ; 
and  yet  he  possessed  all  the  constituents,  which,  when 
developed,  make  a  graceful,  imposing,  and  finely- 
formed  man.  His  childhood  was  carefully  trained  by 
a  mother  of  the  most  remarkable  beauty  and  strength 
of  character  —  the  impersonation  of  all  that  was  lovely 
and  winning  in  mind  and  heart  —  a  lady  of  rare  vigor 
of  intellect,  and  the  most  refined  sensibilities.  She 
watched  the  budding  of  this,  the  youngest  flower  in 
the  garden  of  her  home,  with  more  than  ordinary 
vigilance ;  and  early  impressed  him  with  the  dignity 
of  the  true  faith,  and  the  value  of  a  careful  husband- 
ing of  his  resources.  I  dwell  upon  this,  because  it  is 
only  another  evidence  of  the  great  truth,  that  a  mother 
has  after  all  more  to  do  with  the  moulding  of  the  man 
in  the  boy,  than  all  beside. 

We  were  advanced  to  the  senior  class  at  college, 
and  there  began  our  most  intimate  friendship  —  he  at 
thirteen,  I  at  fifteen.  From  the  start,  the  contest  for 
the  first  honor  was  keen  and  well  sustained.  And 
while  that  class,  between  the  members  of  which  there 
never  was  so  much  as  a  jar  of  ill  feeling,  divided  the 
first  honor  on  the  united  judgment  of  the  board  and 
the  faculty;  we  all  of  us  felt,  that  for  thoroughness  of 
scholarship,  he  was  beyond  comparison  the  Achilles  of 
the  struggle.  At  the  early  age  of  fourteen,  he  took 
his  degree ;  and  for  steady  industry,  systematic  habits, 
and  striking  genius,  he  was  as  remarkable  as  in  after 
years. 

We  passed  out  of  the  college  halls  together,  and 
entered  a  law  office.  For  four  years,  we  read,  and 
walked,  and  talked  together ;  and  then  began  his  care- 
ful examination  of  history,  and  the  great  principles  of 
the  Law,  as  expounded  by  its  masters.  Nothing 
escaped  him,  that  a  youth  of  his  years  could  compre- 


hend.  It  is  my  firm  conviction,  that  had  he  continued 
at  the  bar,  he  would  have  soon  reached  the  first  ranks 
of  his  profession.  For  although  he  possessed  not  the 
gift  of  oratory,  and  would  probably  not  have  made  a 
brilliant  pleader ;  he  had  those  peculiar  powers,  clear- 
ness of  statement,  skill  of  analysis,  concentration  and 
amplification,  earnest  gravity  and  wonderful  fluency, 
which  would  have  commanded  the  respect  of  courts, 
and  the  confidence  of  juries.  He  was  rich  in  resources, 
adroit  in  argument,  ready  in  retort,  and  sparkling  with 
wit.  No  man,  who  ever  encountered  him  in  one  of 
those  off  hand  debates  that  spring  up  in  private  con- 
versation, could  fail  to  discover,  that  it  was  necessary 
to  call  up  his  reserves,  and  keep  the  column  of  his 
ideas  in  line.  He  possessed  singular  self-control,  and 
never  allowed  passion  to  obscure  his  reason,  or  excite- 
ment to  throw  him  off  his  guard.  His  mind  was  emi- 
nently legal.  He  blended  depth  with  pleasantry, 
philosophy  with  practicalness.  If  he  had  pursued  the 
practice,  he  would  have'  been  of  that  class  of  lawyers, 
who  delighted,  not  in  the  dry  letter,  but  the  hidden 
spirit,  and  his  illustrations  would  have  been  drawn 
from  all  sources.  He  felt  the  grandeur  of  the  profes- 
sion. Weighing  each  step  in  argument  and  appeal, 
and  possessing  the  most  astonishing  fluency,  and  that 
too  a  fluency  of  the  most  classic  elegance  and  correct- 
ness, he  could  not  have  failed  to  reach  the  highest 
place  among  advocates.  I  have  never  met  a  man,  who 
reasoned  with  more  power  and  originality  on  any  sub- 
ject, which  he  thought  fit  to  discuss.  But  he  did  not 
prosecute  the  law  ;  and  we  are  therefore  estopped  from 
assigning  him  a  place  in  the  list  of  advocates — all  that 
we  can  do,  is  to  argue  from  the  clearness  and  rapidity 
of  his  conceptions,  the  strength  of  his  memory,  his 
collectedness,  masculine  common  sense,  and  unflagging 


8 

industry,  qualities  we  know  he  possessed.  We  regret, 
that  he  abandoned  the  profession,  and  we  regret  it, 
because  his  mode  of  argumentation  would  have  been  so 
original,  and  his  quiet  and  beautiful  command  of  lan- 
guage would  have  given  to  the  bar  a  style  of  forensic 
pleading  altogether  as  unique  —  as  imposing  as  it 
would  have  been  novel. 

Professor  Alexander  chose  the  path  of  science  and 
literature,  and  he  chose  it  with  the  deliberation,  that 
characterized  all  he  did ;  and  on  that  arena,  he  won  his 
deathless  fame.  His  first  essay  was  the  construction  of 
a  map  of  his  native  State ;  and  his  explorations  were 
marked  with  the  patience  and  accuracy,  that  were 
necessary  to  complete  success.  The  end  was  not 
secured,  for  though  the  map  was  finished,  it  was  not 
printed,  for  want  of  funds,  the  result  of  the  State's 
want  of  enterprise;  and  it  is  certainly  very  curious, 
that  in  the  two  great  departments  of  science  and  litera- 
ture, the  State  faltered,  when  she  should  have  ventured 
something,  and  thus  lost  the  map  and  the  history  of 
her  past  glory,  while  her  most  gifted  son  of  science, 
Dr.  Alexander,  and  her  most  eloquent  orator  and  one 
of  her  ablest  writers,  McMahon,  were  permitted  to 
turn  aside  to  other  more  remunerative  sources  of  study 
and  active  employment.  From  that  day  to  the  close  of 
life,  our  lamented  brother  devoted  himself  to  scientific 
and  literary  pursuits;  at  times  making  a  thousand 
dollar  fee,  for  some  opinion  on  science. 

He  wras  a  profound  mathematician,  a  poet,  a  ripe 
and  varied  scholar,  a  laborious  and  successful  writer, 
and  a  punctual  man  of  business.  He  was  all  this,  or 
I  have  not  read  his  character  aright. 

Perhaps  his  genius  for  Mathematics  was  his  most 
masterful  power.  It  would  take  a  mathematician  to 
sketch  his  character  in  this  particular.  If  Professor 


9 

Bache,  whose  death  he  so  deplored,  who  was  himself  at 
the  head  of  this  branch  of  learning,  a  man  of  the  most 
enlarged  views  and  the  most  liberal  feelings,  as  much 
above  the  narrowness,  that  so  often  bounds  the  vision 
of  the  votaries  of  science  —  I  repeat,  if  Professor  Bache 
were  now  alive,  he  could  tell  you,  how  profound  Dr. 
Alexander  was  in  that  particular  department.  His 
skill  and  extraordinary  accuracy  were  often  tested  in 
the  Coast  Survey ;  and  much  of  the  fruit  of  his  explo- 
rations was  stored  up  in  that  treasure  house  of  science. 
What  was  abstruse  he  mastered,  and  what  was  com- 
plex he  simplified ;  so  that  he  could  readily  solve  the 
most  difficult  problem,  and  by  the  beauty  of  his 
method,  and  the  richness  of  his  genius,  he  could  and 
did  devise  systems  of  calculation,  that  saved  hours  of 
labor,  and  never  at  the  sacrifice  of  accuracy.  I  doubt 
whether  any  man  in  this  country  possessed  greater 
profundity,  united  to  equal  accuracy  of  detail. 

As  a  scholar,  it  is  with  more  capability  of  appre- 
ciation I  can  speak  of  him.  A  Hebraist,  deeply 
versed  in  Greek  and  Latin,  as  deeply  skilled  in  mod- 
ern tongues,  he  was  without  question  the  first  linguist 
of  this  hemisphere.  He  wrote  Latin  as  readily  as  he 
wrote  English,  with  the  same  beautiful  command  of 
words,  and  skill  in  construction.  When  going  abroad, 
he  prepared  his  passports  in  seven  different  languages, 
and  for  penmanship  and  attic  purity,  they  were  splen- 
did specimens,  worthy  of  the  most  accomplished  mas- 
ters in  either.  It  was  really  wonderful  to  see  with 
what  facility  he  could  dash  off,  at  a  sitting,  Latin 
verse,  as  fluently,  as  though  it  were  his  native  tongue, 
and  he  a  poet  of  the  fair  Italian  clime.  He  was  as 
exact  as  he  was  varied  in  his  gift  of  tongues.  He 
understood  the  rules  of  grammar,  the  principles  of 
construction,  the  philology  of  words;  and  consequently 


10 

he  was  never  betrayed  into  an  error  of  either  inter- 
pretation or  construction.  He  had  studied  Latin  and 
Greek  in  the  school  of  the  ancients,  and  had  mas- 
tered the  great  principles  that  underlie  them.  From 
that  stand-point,  he  had  pursued  the  study  of  the 
modern  languages.  There  have  been  and  now  are 
in  this  country,  men  skilled  in  all  tongues ;  but  I 
doubt,  whether  any  one  of  them  had  attained  his  com- 
pleteness of  scholarship.  He  was  trained  by  a  teacher 
from  the  Emerald  Isle,  in  the  system  of  grammatical 
accuracy ;  and  the  superstructure  he  reared  was  based 
on  the  same  deep  and  broad  foundation. 

His  Dictionary  of  English  surnames,  in  twelve 
volumes,  is  now  ready  for  the  publishers.  It  is  a  stu- 
pendous monument  of  learning,  is  thoroughly  exhaus- 
tive of  the  subject  of  which  it  treats,  and  bears  the 
impress  of  a  strong  and  original  genius.  A  volume  of 
it  was  left  with  a  publisher  in  London,  and  passed 
under  the  inspection  of  the  scholars  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,  and  was  deemed  to  be  by  them  so  complete 
and  satisfactory,  that  they  expressed  a  desire  to  incor- 
porate it  into  a  work  of  their  own.  Nothing  less  than 
a  patient  and  careful  examination  of  it  can  give  any, 
the  least  idea,  of  its  magnitude  and  importance,  and 
that  I  have  neither  the  time  nor  the  learning  to  make. 
When  published,  as  I  trust  it  will  be,  it  will  speak  for 
itself  more  eloquently,  than  the  tongue  or  the  pen  of 
the  ablest  and  most  discriminating  of  his  friends  could 
possibly  do.  His  Concordance  of  the  Prayer  Book  is 
also  finished.  The  larger  work,  the  Dictionary  of  that 
wonderful  compilation,  was  unhappily  left  unfinished. 
The  Suspiria  Sanctorum,  sonnets  for  the  Holy  Days,  is 
ready  for  publication.  It  is  illustrated  by  drawings, 
copied  from  the  masters,  the  work  of  his  own  pencil, 
which  are  executed  with  remarkable  taste  and  spirit. 


11 


As  it  stands,  it  is  a  specimen  of  penmanship,  as  beau- 
tiful as  eye  ever  rested  on,  and  breathes  the  same  rich- 
ness of  poetic  imagery,  and  gracefulness  of  expression, 
that  characterizes  his  lyrics. 

He  turned  his  attention  to  the  tongue  of  the  Dela- 
ware tribe,  which  was  extensively  in  use  among  the 
other  tribes  of  this  country.  He  began  by  taking  up 
a  word  here  and  there,  and  then  a  sentence,  and  with 
something  of  the  same  sort  of  patient  enthusiasm,  that 
characterizes  the  anatomist,  who  seeks  to  put  together 
the  disarranged  bones  of  a  system  not  yet  under- 
stood, he  would  articulate  one  sentence  into  another, 
until,  with  the  aid  of  other  helps,  he  reduced  to 
order  what  was  a  misshapen  mass,  and  recovered 
much,  that  was  lost  in  the  dialect  of  that  extraordi- 
nary people. 

If  the  gift  of  language  had  been  his  only  pursuit,  it 
is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  of  greater  proficiency 
than  he  had  attained.  I  have  known  him  to  be  tested 
in  the  most  difficult  passages,  and  always  found  him  as 
ready  and  accurate,  as  promptness  and  accuracy  could 
be.  It  was  his  amusement  to  turn  English  verse  into 
Latin,  and  vice  versa ;  and  some  really  exquisite  gems 
have  passed  under  my  eye,  which  were  struck  off  in  a 
moment,  extemporized  in  the  most  appropriate  words 
and  musical  rhythm.  On  a  disputed  passage  either  of 
construction  or  grammar,  his  opinion  would  have  been 
the  safest  guide.  For  he  was  always  backed  by  the 
rules  of  grammar,  and  the  idiom  of  the  language,  and 
could  not  therefore  well  go  amiss. 

In  that  versatility  of  genius,  which  marked  the 
character  of  Professor  Alexander,  we  find  that  the 
embryo  lawyer,  the  profound  mathematician,  was  in 
like  manner  the  ripest  of  scholars,  and  most  thorough 
of  linguists. 


12 

He  was  also  a  poet.  I  do  not  say  a  popular  poet, 
for  there  was  too  much  depth  and  originality  of 
thought  and  expression  to  secure  at  once  the  popular 
applause  —  too  much  purity  and  beauty  of  language, 
and  calm  quiet  depth  of  sentiment,  to  win  its  way  to 
the  popular  heart,  save  by  slow  steps.  He  was  how- 
ever a  true  poet.  His  Introits  and  Catena  are  both 
works  of  a  high  order.  I  select  the  latter,  because  it 
has  just  appeared  in  a  new  edition.  It  is  curious  to 
see,  how  he  constantly  sought  after  perfection,  and  ela- 
borated what  he  undertook  to  the  last  degree  of  polish. 
The  revised  edition  of  this  little  work  exhibits  this 
habit  of  his  mind,  in  its  most  winning  aspect.  Words 
are  substituted,  and  lines  altered,  with  a  richness  of 
resources,  that  seems  to  know  no  exhaustion.  It  is  a 
string  of  pearls,  not  inappropriately  called  a  Catena, 
which  will  link  his  name  to  an  immortality,  in  that 
serene  region,  where  the  sacred  muse  most  delights  to 
dwell,  and  where  she  weaves  her  freshest  and  most 
beautiful  garlands.  The  opening  piece,  the  Prelude, 
and  the  closing  piece,  the  Yalete,  are  conceived  in  his 
richest  vein,  and  marked  throughout  with  that  pathos 
and  depth  of  feeling,  which  go  direct  to  the  heart. 
They  are  exuberant  in  thought,  musical  in  rhythm, 
profound  in  sentiment,  and  full  of  heart-revealing. 
They  are  gems  of  their  kind,  "  apples  of  silver  in  pic- 
tures of  gold."  The  ideas  in  the  second  and  third 
stanzas  are  exquisite. 

"The  pictures  blurred  and  canvass  torn 
Of  deeds  mine  own  and  others," 

with 

"  the  funeral  march  of  figures  tremulent " 

are  splendid  specimens  of  word  painting.     "  The  lumi- 
nous  chain,  which   o'erhung,  in   its   span,  the   azure 


13 

canopy"  is  grandly  descriptive  of  the  church's  seasons, 
conceived  and  expressed  in  the  happiest  vein  of  the 
sacred  muse.  The  lyric  for  Easter  day,  (to  take  the 
one  nearest  to  us  in  point  of  time,)  is  a  gem.  The 
winter  time  of  Christmas,  and  its  snow  white  robe  so 
bridal,  and  so  sweetly  typical  of  the  coming  of  the 
Bridegroom,  contrast  beautifully  with  the  vernal  day 
of  Easter,  and  is  admirably  sustained  throughout. 
There  is  the  true  poetic  ring  in  the  stanza, 

"  Therefore  each  rolling  year, 

The  withered  leaves  and  sere, 
That  icy  Christmas  scatters  crisped  and  torn, 

Wanderers  till  Easter  comes, 

When  in  their  ancient  homes, 
And  on  old  forest  boughs,  they  find  themselves  new-born." 

I  will  not  cull  out  of  the  Catena  the  links,  that 
please  me  most.  But  I  confidently  believe,  that  the 
day  is  not  distant,  when  it  will  be  conceded,  that  the 
whole  chain  is  of  wrought  gold,  gold  of  thought,  and 
gold  of  feeling. 

It  is  a  book  of  poetry,  which,  to  be  appreciated,  must 
be  studied.  That  which  prevents  the  immediate  popu- 
larity of  a  poem,  may  tend  to  secure  for  it  a  deathless 
immortality.  Wordsworth  "  was  formerly  an  object  of 
neglect  or  derision ; "  but  now  to  use  the  language  of 
Coleridge,  "he  wears  the  crown,  and  will  continue  to 
wear  it,  while  English  is  English."  Dr.  Alexander's 
poetry  is  not  obscure.  It  is  %deep.  But  depth  is  clear. 
It  is  not  however  always  seen  through ;  for  there  may 
be  a  film  on  the  eye  of  the  reader.  It  is  suggestive. 
This  is  perhaps  its  principle  charm.  As  much  is 
implied,  as  is  expressed ;  and  this,  in  poetry  as  in 
painting,  is  the  perfection  of  art. 

It  is  somewhat  curious  to  see,  how  variously  poetry 
has  been  defined  by  different  writers  of  acknowledged 
ability  and  unquestioned  literary  taste.  I  am  of  the 


14 


opinion  of  Coleridge,  that  Milton  has  come  nearer  to 
the  true  conception,  than  any  other  writer.  "  Simple, 
sensuous,  impassioned."  Coleridge's  own  definition  is 
not  without  merit :  "  The  most  proper  words  in  the 
most  proper  place."  Ruskin  has  written  with  his 
usual  brilliancy ;  and  so  has  Christopher  North  in 
the  Noctes  Ambrosianse.  They  substantially  concur 
with  Milton.  Judged  by  this  test,  and  no  other  is 
a  fair  criterion  of  excellence;  the  Catena  is  a  gem, 
richly  set  in  a  frame-work  of  gold.  It  is  simple, 
sensuous,  impassioned.  Perhaps  of  these  three  ele- 
ments, Professor  Alexander  was  more  deficient  in  the 
last.  At  least  it  was  less  strikingly  developed  in  his 
mental  organization.  He  lacks  fire,  the  enthusiasm 
of  inspiration,  the  fiery  frenzy,  of  which  Shakespeare 
speaks. 

Dr.  Alexander's  poetry  is  peculiar,  of  a  genus  alto- 
gether unique,  as  distinctly  marked,  as  was  his  genius. 
It  is  original  in  the  modes  of  expression  and  illustra- 
tions. Its  chief  excellence  consists  in  rich  imagery, 
felicitous  language,  pure  taste,  and  moral  elevation. 
It  has  more  light  than  heat,  though  it  is  not  wanting 
in  warmth.  The  Church  Journal,  which  is  one  of  our 
most  intellectual  and  discriminating  periodicals,  writ- 
ing of  this  volume,  years  ago,  says,  that  each  piece  is 
possessed  of  rare  jewels,  but  complains  that  there  is 
evidence  of  haste  and  carelessness.  I  am  satisfied, 
that  what  is  imputed  to  haste  or  carelessness  is  attrib- 
utable to  Dr.  Alexander's  peculiarity  of  thought,  and 
modes  of  expression.  Careless  he  never  was.  Faulty 
at  times  he  may  have  been,  but  not  careless.  I  am 
of  the  opinion  that  if  he  had,  like  the  troubadours  of 
old,  recited  his  poems,  they  would  have  been  more 
popular;  for  his  style  suited  exactly  his  vocal  pow- 
ITS.  He  neither  talked  nor  wrote  like  other  men. 


15 

As  a  proof  of  the  correctness  of  this  opinion,  the  new 
edition  just  issued  has  comparatively  few  alterations ; 
and  where  it  is  altered,  it  is  not  always  improved  — 
as,  for  instance,  Hesper,  for  twilight,  in  the  opening- 
piece. 

The  editor  of  the  Journal  affirms,  that  Dr.  Alexan- 
der is  a  bold  man,  because  he  wrote  on  the  Church's 
seasons,  and  followed  Keble.  Now,  I  am  not  so  well 
satisfied  that  there  is  much  of  boldness  in  this,  heret- 
ical as  it  may  sound.  Heber  had  walked  the  same 
path  before  Keble,  and  Heber  was  a  true  poet.  Keble 
followed,  and  in  his  own  line  it  would  have  been  not 
only  presumptuous  but  foolish  to  have  sought  to  follow 
him.  This  Dr.  Alexander  did  not  do.  Both  of  them 
drew  from  the  Scripture  woven  into  the  service  for 
the  day ;  and  yet  they  drew  from  different  portions  of 
the  Word,  while  neither  of  them  have  brought  out  the 
teachings  of  the  seasons,  as  fully  as  they  are  brought 
out  in  prose.  Keble  is  unapproachable  in  his  own 
peculiar  vein.  He  is  a  peculiar  star,  by  himself,  with 
no  other  star  near  him  in  that  part  of  the  heavens, 
which  was  the  highest,  where  he  now  sheds  the  soft 
beams  of  his  glory  —  a  fixed  star  of  the  first  magni- 
tude, in  the  poetic  constellation.  But  Dr.  Alexander's 
was  a  totally  different  vein  ;  and  no  microscope  within 
my  reach  is  strong  enough  to  detect  the  least  resem- 
blance. They  cannot  be  compared,  for  they  are  not 
alike.  He  must  be  dead  to  poetry,  who  does  not 
trace  with  delight  the  footprints  of  either,  and  rejoice 
that  the  Church's  system,  is  so  rich  and  suggestive,  as 
to  afford  a  secure  foothold  for  both.  Take  the  Easter 
or  Trinity  lyrics,  and  compare  them ;  and  they  will 
be  found  to  be  as  much  unlike  as  two  leaves,  each 
resplendent  in  beauty,  and  a  flowering  of  its  own. 
To  my  mind,  it  would  be  about  as  wise  to  reject  the 


16 


Japonica  because  it  was  not  a  rose,  or  deny  the  privi- 
lege of  growth  to  two  leaves,  because,  though  totally 
unlike  in  form,  they  were  both  leaves,  as  to  reject  the 
lyrics  of  Alexander  because  they  were  the  products 
of  the  seasons,  which  Keble  immortalized.  Keble 
walked  in  the  footprints  of  Heber,  and  yet  he  sus- 
tained throughout  his  own  peculiarity  of  genius ;  and 
surely  another  may  step  into  his,  if  he  has  only  the 
power  to  breathe  over  it  his  own  rich  genius,  and 
preserve  his  own  individuality.  This  Dr.  Alexander 
did.  He  was  no  copyist  of  Keble,  as  Keble  was  no 
copyist  of  Heber.  No  man  loves  Keble  or  his  genius 
more  than  I  do.  But  still  the  path  is  open;  and  of 
one*  who  has  strowed  it  with  the  flowers  of  true  poetry, 
as  Dr.  Alexander  has  done,  I  cannot  breathe  one  word 
of  censure,  or  think  him  either  bold  or  presumptuous. 

There  is  nothing,  on  which  criticism  is  more  disposed 
to  issue  its  flippant  decrees,  than  poetry,  music,  and 
painting  —  and  yet  there  is  nothing,  which  so  calls  for 
the  exercise  of  its  noblest  powers,  and  keenest  discrimi- 
nation. I  respect  criticism,  and  pay  all  deference  to 
its  learned  decisions ;  but  I  have  no  patience  with  that 
pretentious  usurper,  who  is  constantly  seating  himself 
in  the  seat  of  judgment,  and  in  stupid  ignorance  of 
what  in  reality  constitutes  the  subtle  essence  of  true 
poetry,  and  destitution  6f  the  imagination,  which  is 
needful  to  its  just  appreciation,  decries  what  he  does 
not  chance  to  relish. 

My  learned  friend,  writing  to  me  a  short  time  before 
his  death,  accepts  the  popular  standard  of  merit,  the 
pay  it  returns ;  and  modestly  waved  the  claim  to  the 
award  that  will  undoubtedly  yet  crown  his  noble  essay 
in  this  most  difficult  branch  of  the  poetic  art.  But  I 
do  not.  Fidelity  to  the  churchly  teaching,  and  the 
Scripture,  woven  into  the  service  of  the  day,  hampers 


17 

genius,  and  makes  a  work,  like  the  Catena,  doubly 
difficult.  I  have  no  fears  of  the  ultimate  judgment 
which  will  be  passed  upon  the  work.  All  that  I 
dread  is  the  indisposition  to  dig  deep  into  the  mines 
of  thought  — •  the  too  fatal  propensity  to  regard  poetry 
solely  as  the  vehicle  of  pleasure,  a  pleasure  obtained 
without  effort,  and  not  as  it  is  the  vehicle  of  instruc- 
tion united  to  pleasure,  the  pleasure  that  flows  from 
rich  thoughts  richly  expressed,  to  the  mind  and  heart, 
that  spring  to  their  work,  and  are  patient  in  spirit. 

Now,  is  it  not  wonderful  that  a  mind  so  wedded  to 
the  exact  sciences,  and  so  deeply  versed  in  their  hid- 
den mysteries,  should  at  the  same  time  have  found  a 
wing  so  strong  to  soar  in  the  regions  of  poesy,  and 
have  been  so  well  sustained  in  his  flight  ?  A  mathe- 
matician, bold,  original,  profound,  and  a  poet  who  had 
at  command  the  most  proper  word  for  the  most  proper 
place,  blended  in  one,  and  so  blended,  that  the  depth 
in  either  was  as  clear  as  the  stream  that  wells  up  from 
some  huge  rock,  on  the  bosom  of  which  there  is  not 
so  much  as  a  single  ripple.  May  it  not  be,  as  Wilson 
expresses  it,  "that  poetry  and  science  are  identical." 

To  cap  the  climax,  Professor  Alexander  was  almost, 
if  not  quite,  as  deeply  read  in  theology  and  Church 
history  as  he  was  in  mathematics  and  general  litera- 
ture. It  is  not  common  for  a  layman  to  push  his 
inquiries  into  this  region  of  thought;  nor  is  it  com- 
mon for  him  to  succeed,  if  he  does.  But  there  was 
nothing  common  in  the  mental  calibre  of  our  deceased 
friend.  He  prepared  and  published  a  tabular  state- 
ment of  the  points  of  doctrine,  in  which  the  several 
systems  of  religious  belief  meet  and  diverge ;  and  I 
hazard  nothing  in  saying,  that  this  remarkable  exhi- 
bition of  the  powers  of  condensation  and  accurate  dis- 
crimination would  have  been  worthy  of  any  Prelate 


18 


in  Christendom.  On  one  occasion,  meeting  a  distin- 
guished and  most  learned  divine  of  the  Lutheran 
faith,  who  did  not  know  him,  he  asked  for  informa- 
tion touching  some  point  of  belief,  when  the  gentle- 
man replied,  I  know  not  where  you  will  find  an 
answer,  unless  it  be  in  a  sheet  published  by  some 
Dr.  Alexander,  of  Baltimore,  which  is  the  most  won- 
derful paper  that  has  ever  met  my  eye.  On  one 
occasion,  he  submitted  to  me  a  sermon,  which  he  had 
composed  merely  to  see  how  he  could  manage  it ;  and 
for  beauty  of  order,  purity  of  language,  copiousness  of 
thought,  and  elevation  of  sentiment,  it  was  a  noble 
production  —  strikingly  original,  and  yet  thoroughly 
churchly  in  its  tone.  He  was,  perhaps,  the  best  can- 
onist of  his  day.  The  history  of  the  Prayer  Book 
was  understood  by  him  as  perfectly  as  by  any  other 
man  of  his  age.  The  Concordance  is  proof  of  this 
assertion. 

There  is  a  popular  impression,  which  many  men  of 
science  have  endorsed,  that  such  limitless  range  of 
study  engenders  superficiality,  which  is  ranging  every 
where,  but  never  sounding  the  depths  of  anything  — 
and  perhaps  this  impression  is  in  the  main  well 
founded.  For  rare  genius  is  the  rarest  of  all  God's 
creations.  But  each  case  must  stand  on  its  own 
merits.  There  is  no  Procrustes  bed,  on  which  you 
can  stretch  genius,  so  as  to  make  it  suit  your  precon- 
ceived theories.  Superficiality  must  be  submitted  to 
the  actual  test  of  experiment.  It  is  not,  and  never  can 
be,  the  result  of  theory.  The  diffusion  of  mental  forces 
may  weaken  the  vigor  of  some ;  but  it  would  be  a 
very  illogical  inference  to  conclude,  that  it  would  be 
productive  of  a  like  result  in  all.  Dr.  Alexander 
attempted  many  things  —  but  the  peculiarity  of  his 
genius  consisted  .in  this,  that  he  never  attempted, 


19 


what  he  did  not  execute  thoroughly.  He  united 
amplification  and  condensation  to  such  a  degree,  that 
he  could  call  in  his  forces,  and  concentrate  them  at 
will ;  and  the  base  of  his  operations  was  always  so 
wisely  chosen,  that  he  could  bring  them  to  bear  in  a 
given  point,  whenever  the  emergency  required.  Those, 
who  thought  he  unwisely  extended  the  range  of  his 
inquiries,  and  because  they  were  men  of  one  idea,  fan- 
cied that  all  men  were  like  them,  did  not  understand 
the  man.  He  had  a  department  in  his  brain  for  each 
topic  he  pursued,  and  had  so  systematized  his  plans, 
that  he  could  either  put  you  in  possession  of  all  that 
was  profound  in  either,  or  else  give  you  the  authority, 
that  was  essential  to  its  completeness.  I  dwell  upon 
this,  because  it  is  possible,  that  some  of  the  learned 
men  of  our  day  may  have  supposed,  that  want  of 
thoroughness  must  have  been  the  characteristic  of  a 
mind  so  boundless  in  its  excursions.  Superficiality 
was  a  thing  he  detested;  and  I  am  here  to-night  to 
vindicate  his  character  in  this  respect.  If  superficial, 
show  in  what  he  was ;  or  else,  for  decency's  sake,  for- 
bear to  immolate  him  on  a  theory,  which,  however  it 
may  hold  true  in  ordinary  cases,  is  utterly  false  as  the 
measurement  of  extraordinary  genius. 

The  admirable  Crichton,  the  great  Scotchman,  grad- 
uated at  twelve,  was  master  of  arts  at  fourteen,  spoke 
and  wrote  ten  different  languages,  was  familiar  with 
science  in  all  its  departments,  and  died  at  twenty- 
three.  Perhaps  he  was  the  nearest  approach  to  our 
lamented  friend,  of  whom  there  is  any  record  made. 

Professor  Alexander  was  skilled  in  the  art  of  letter- 
writing.  His  penmanship  was  beautiful.  If  the  letter 
was  on  business,  it  was  so  clear  and  lucid  in  order, 
and  so  rich  in  detail,  that  nothing  was  left  to  be 
desired ;  and  then  there  was  always  some  delicate 
3 


20 


sentiment  introduced  to  relieve  it  of  the  dulness,  that 
would  otherwise  attach  to  a  mere  business  transaction. 
If  it  was  a  letter  of  friendship,  why  then  you  might 
look  for  the  rarest  treat ;  words  chosen  with  the  most 
beautiful  appropriateness,  and  ideas  at  once  the  most 
original  and  striking,  playful  or  grave,  humorous  or 
sarcastic,  descriptive  or  argumentative,  as  the  occasion 
required.  I  think  some  of  the  finest  criticisms  I  have 
read  have  come  to  me,  in  the  freedom  of  friendship,  in 
the  form  of  letters,  written  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 
If  those  letters  could  be  gathered  up,  they  would  con- 
stitute a  book  of  the  most  bewitching  character.  There 
was  nothing  artistic  about  them  ;  and  yet  they  were 
characterized  by  all  the  best  rules  of  art,  well  nigh 
perfect  in  their  kind.  They  were  the  etchings  of  a 
master — speaking  pictures — each  picture  in  its  place, 
and  yet  there  was  no  evidence  of  constraint  in  the 
gallery.  Here  again  we  see  that  wonderful  combina- 
tion. Many  can  write,  and  write  beautifully,  letters 
of  sentiment,  who  cannot  write  letters  of  business.  It 
was  said  of  Addison,  that  his  greatest  difficulty  was 
just  here.  How  to  express  himself  on  business,  simply 
and  to  the  point,  was  the  problem.  Professor  Alex- 
ander could  do  the  one  as  well  and  as  easily  as  the 
other ;  and  the  business  part  over,  he  would  insert 
some  gem  of  sentiment  that  would  set  off  the  whole 
previous  dry  detail  to  the  greatest  advantage. 

A  distinguished  friend  of  his,  with  whom  he  was 
spending  a  few  days,  told  me,  that  one  morning  he 
took  up  a  little  book  of  Latin  hymns,  and  in  a  few 
hours  wrote  a  translation,  in  verse,  of  the  Stabat 
Mater,  that  was  not  translated,  and  inserted  the 
leaves  so  beautifully,  that  they  looked  as  though  they 
had  been  bound  up  in  the  volume.  Passing  out  with 
him  for  a  walk,  they  came  to  a  brick-yard,  when  this 


21 


friend  drew  attention  to  the  fact,  that  they  could  not 
make  bricks  in  Connecticut.  Professor  Alexander 
immediately  explained  the  cause,  and  when  he  was 
asked,  how  he  came  to  know  so  much  about  it,  he  said, 
that  he  had  entered  a  brick-yard  in  Baltimore,  and 
worked  a  month  at  the  trade,  until  he  had  thoroughly 
acquired  the  art.  Here  we  have  the  embryo  lawyer, 
the  profound  mathematician,  the  erudite  scholar,  the 
accomplished  theologian,  the  writer  of  works  exhaus- 
tive of  the  subjects  on  which  he  wrote,  and  the  poet — 
a  maker  of  bricks  in  the  brick-yards  of  Baltimore, 
that  he  might  be  practically  acquainted  with  the  sub- 
ject. 

Perhaps  you  may  say,  that  all  this  looks  wondrously 
like  the  fables  of  some  dreamer;  and  despite  of  my 
protestations  of  seeking  to  describe  truthfully  the 
character  you  gave  me  as  my  theme,  you  may  be 
tempted  to  charge  me  with  extravagant  panegyric. 
But  I  ask,  that  the  man,  among  you,  who  is  incredu- 
lous, disprove  my  facts,  or  else  grant  with  me,  that 
the  truth  is  frequently  far  more  wonderful  than  fable. 
I  do  not  hesitate,  here  in  the  presence  of  the  most 
learned  of  this  fraternity,  to  express  my  firm  belief, 
that  at  the  time  of  his  death,  a  superior  intellect  was 
not  embodied  in  this  country. 

He  possessed  every  quality  of  mind  that  constitutes 
true  mental  greatness — judgment,  memory,  imagina- 
tion, quickness  of  comprehension,  an  industry  that 
never  flagged,  and  a  system  that  nothing  disturbed. 
His  memory  retained  all  it  touched.  To  consult  him 
on  any  question  was  to  be  satisfied  without  the  neces- 
sity to  look  for  authority.  It  was  already  at  hand. 
He  was  the  most  rapid  reader.  The  operations  of  his 
mind  were  almost  intuitive.  I  was  often  in  earlier 
years,  and  occasionally  in  later,  accustomed  to  study 


22 


with  him ;  and  I  know  by  experience,  how  he  resem- 
bled the  lightning  flash  in  conception  and  discrimi- 
nation, and  with  all  this  rapidity,  there  was  not  the 
slightest  sacrifice  of  accuracy.  Nor  am  I  alone  in  this 
opinion.  A  learned  Prelate  of  our  church  once  said 
to  me,  that  Dr.  Alexander  was  the  most  accurately 
learned  man  he  had  ever  met  —  and  he  was  compe- 
tent to  judge. 

What  is  as  strange,  his  humility  was  the  most 
prominent  characteristic  of  his  life.  He  was  the 
most  modest  learned  man  I  ever  saw.  While  he 
freely  communicated  knowledge,  it  was  necessary  to 
draw  it  out.  He  volunteered  nothing.  Respectful 
of,  and  attentive  to  the  views  of  others,  he  main- 
tained his  own  with  a  quiet  dignity  and  unpretend- 
ing firmness,  that  are  above  all  praise.  It  was  beau- 
tiful to  see  such  humility;  for  we  seem  to  have  well 
nigh  lost  that  cardinal  grace  altogether.  Other  ages 
may  have  been  golden  —  ours  is  brazen,  and  by  a 
strange  sort  of  legerdemain  we  have  contrived  to 
make  the  mint  issue  a  currency  of  brass,  that  is 
rapidly  taking  the  place  of  gold ;  and  are  acting,  as 
though  we  believed,  that  to  assume  to  be,  is  to  be. 

What  shall  I  say  of  Dr.  Alexander  as  a  man? 
Faultless  I  will  not  proclaim  him;  for  faultless 
nothing  human  is.  But  if  I  were  asked  to  tell  you 
his  faults,  I  confess  to  you,  in  all  candor,  that  I 
should  find  it  as  difficult,  as  I  have  done  to  deline- 
ate his  intellectual  character  without  seeming  extrav- 
agance, unbecoming  me  and  the  spot,  on  which  I 
stand.  A  little  too  fond  he  was  of  disputation ;  the 
proneness,  in  the  circle  of  his  intimate  friends,  to 
argue  for  argument's  sake,  on  any  side  of  any  ques- 
tion, to  draw  out  the  powers  of  an  advocate.  A 
little  too  undemonstrative  he  was.  A  little  too  much 


23 


absorbed  in  business.  A  little  too  speculative  on 
those  nice  questions,  which  a  wise  man  shuns  as  the 
secret  things  that  belong  to  God.  A  little  too  distant 
and  reserved.  A  little  given  to  superstition,  and  not 
altogether  free  from  prejudice.  Where  he  felt,  he  felt 
deeply ;  and  on  one  subject,  on  which  we  differed  toto 
ccelo,  the  only  question  on  which  we  differed,  he  may 
have  indulged  a  little  too  much  of  a  hardness,  which 
was  foreign  to  his  nature,  although  I  never  saw  it  in 
the  closest  intercourse  we  ever  held,  and  the  most 
unreserved  discussions,  in  which  we  freely  indulged. 
But  this  said,  all  is  said,  that  can  be  truthfully  said 
of  his  failings. 

I  knew  him  in  his  boyhood  and  manhood ;  from  the 
day  when  we  dreamed  dreams  together,  and  builded 
those  castles  in  the  air  that  were  all  so  gorgeous  in 
their  bubble  existence,  to  the  day  of  his  death.  In 
all  that  period  of  time,  we  were  placed  in  the  closest 
possible  contact  with  each  other,  with  no  concealment 
on  any  subject,  and  scarcely  a  divided  sentiment.  In 
boyhood  and  manhood,  he  was  high  toned,  just,  exact, 
sincere,  honest  and  accommodating.  A  more  moral 
boy  never  breathed  —  a  truer  boy,  or  one  freer  from 
the  taint  of  meanness,  I  never  knew.  This  testimony, 
borne  here  on  the  spot  where  his  manhood  was  devel- 
oped, is  but  sheer  justice  to  his  memory. 

What  he  was  in  maturer  years,  you  knew  as  well 
as  I  did.  Refined  in  his  manners,  a  gentleman  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word,  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  gov- 
erned in  his  intercourse  with  others  by  that  conside- 
rate thoughtfulness  and  steady  adherence  to  principle, 
which  commands  the  respect  it  pays.  Systematic  in 
his  business  engagements,  and  scrupulously  exact,  his 
word  was  his  bond.  At  the  council  board,  in  the  com- 
mittee room,  he  was  punctual  to  the  hour ;  and  when 


24 


there,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  business  on  hand 
with  a  judgment,  that  passion  never  clouded,  and  a 
zeal  that  knew  no  abatement.  No  one  would  go  far- 
ther to  serve  a  friend ;  while  no  'one  more  quietly  dis- 
charged <the  duty  of  charity,  or  disbursed  alms,  with 
less  ostentation,  or  more  religiously  regarded  the 
golden  precept  of  not  letting  the  left  hand  know, 
what  the  right  hand  did. 

To  crown  all,  he  was  a  devout,  meek,  Christian 
churchman.  His  piety  was  unusually  serene.  A 
firm  believer  in  the  guardianship  of  an  especial  Prov- 
idence, he  was  as  meek  in  adversity,  as  he  was  modest 
in  prosperity.  The  saddest  sorrow,  that  ever  cast  its 
shadow  over  his  heart,  only  served  to  bring  out  more 
distinctly  the  beauty  of  his  Christian  faith,  and  illus- 
trate the  moral  bravery,  that  sustained  him,  when  in 
the  fiery  furnace.  It  is  not  for  me  to  lift  the  veil, 
that  curtained  a  domestic  life,  as  beautiful  as  eye 
ever  rested  on,  save  only  to  say  to  you,  that  it  was 
there  his  moral  loveliness  shone  out  most  gloriously. 
As  a  husband,  father,  brother,  friend,  he  was  a  model 
of  excellence.  It  was  the  uniformity  of  his  tender- 
ne,ss,  that  never  faltered,  or  for  a  moment  passed 
under  eclipse,  which  gave  it  its  crowning  charm.  The 
habits  of  his  life  were  exceedingly  simple  and  uni- 
form. Society  had  its  attraction,  but  it  was  the  society 
of  the  learned,  moral,  and  refined.  Cheerful,  he  shed 
a  genial  sunshine  all  around  him.  Never  exuberant 
in  spirit,  he  was  never  depressed.  He  took  the  most 
philosophical  view  of  life.  His  great  theory  was, 
that  no  man  was  essential  to  society.  He  believed 
that  the  man  for  the  place  would  never  be  wanting ; 
and  consequently  in  his  extraordinary  humility,  he 
never  valued  himself  on  account  either  of  his  attain- 
ments or  native  powers.  I  have  not  a  doubt,  that 


25 


much  of  his  sublime  composure  was  attributable  to 
this  wise  theory.  In  one  of  his  last  letters  to  me, 
which  breathes  all  a  woman's  tenderness,  writing  of 
what  he  thought  must  be  a  source  of  pleasure  to  me 
in  the  retrospect,  he  expressed  the  hope,  that,  notwith- 
standing the  little  he  had  accomplished,  he  had  not 
lived  altogether  in  vain,  so  far  as  duty  to  home  and 
family  was  concerned  —  though  even  in  this,  he  took 
but  little  credit  to  himself.  And  yet,  if  ever  any  one 
lived  for  a  purpose  high  and  noble,  and  lived  up  to 
the  purpose,  he  did.  He  realized  that  God  sitteth 
above  the  water  floods,  King  forever;  and  this  filled 
him  with  contentment  in  the  lot  assigned  him. 

His  death  was  fully  as  sublime  as  his  life.  When 
I  said  to  him,  that  I  hoped  he  would  be  spared  to 
the  church,  and  permitted  to  finish  the  great  work  he 
was  engaged  in,  he  said  so  calmly,  and  with  so  much 
meek  submission,  there  is  a  grander  and  vaster  field 
beyond  us.  Though  he  sometimes  indulged  in  curi- 
ous speculations,  he  never  permitted  a  doubt  of  the 
truth  of  the  catholic  creeds  to  cross  his  mind,  but  laid 
his  vast  stores  of  learning  at  the  foot  of  the  cross, 
and  saw  only  in  that  cross  the  perfection  of  truth,  and 
recognized  in  science  only  the  handmaid  of  faith. 
And  now,  that  I  stand  before  you  to-night,  his  earli- 
est friend,  in  the  light  of  forty  years'  experience  of 
the  heart-wealth  and  mental  power  of  his  well-spent 
life ;  will  you  chide  me  for  laying  this  humble  gar- 
land on  his  honored  bier  ? 

I  appreciate  the  beautiful  in  others.  I  revere  the 
learning  and  eloquence  which  have  marked  their  pil- 
grimage. I  admire  the  flowers  of  faith,  hope  and  love 
that  have  left  the  scent  and  freshness  of  their  bloom 
and  rich  flowering  behind  them.  I  would  not  detract 
one  iota  from  their  claim  on  our  gratitude  and  praise. 


26 

But  I  must  be  allowed  to  say,  that  so  rare  a  combi- 
nation of  wealth  of  mind  and  wealth  of  heart,  it  has 
not  been  my  privilege  to  behold  in  another.  His 
works  will  live  after  him,  a  monument  of  his  indus- 
try, vast  capabilities,  and  devotion  to  the  progress  of 
science  and  literature  —  more  solid  and  enduring  than 
chiselled  marble,  or  wrought  gold,  they  will  enshrine 
and  embalm  his  memory.  Who  will  take  up  his 
unfinished  work,  and  complete  it,  as  he  began  it  ?  I 
know  not  the  man.  Maryland  is  rich  in  historic 
names.  Frederick  and  Baltimore  are  both  justly 
distinguished — your  own  society  has  stars  in  it, 
which  will  %  mingle  their  glory  with  the  stars  that 
have  faded.  I  am  to-night  in  presence  of  those 
whom  I  would  praise,  if  they  were  not  now  living 
to  subdue  me  into  silence.  Eloquence  is  hers,  such 
as  I  think  neither  Greece  nor  Rome  have  excelled. 
Legal  learning,  combined  with  legal  logic,  is  hers, 
such  as  never  before  adorned  the  courts  of  judica- 
ture. In  history,  and  literature,  and  science,  she  has 
achieved  much,  through  her  gifted  sons,  in  the  years 
that  are  past.  Her  name  still  lives,  and  the  lustre 
of  her  surviving  stars  keeps  undimmed  the  noble 
galaxy,,  that  has  faded  in  the  dawning  of  a  brighter 
day.  But  she  has  given  birth  to  another,  who,  with- 
out eloquence,  or  the  skill  of  the  rhetorician,  or  rather 
without  the  theatre  for  their  display,  will  transmit  her 
name  to  the  ages  following,  one  in  a  century,  whose 
varied  and  diversified  genius  was  equal  to  any  duty 
that  could  have  been  assigned  to  it. 

Some  of  her  most  honored  names  live  now  but  in 
the  echoes  of  the  past ;  and  those  echoes  are  so  mar- 
vellous, that  many  have  deemed  them  but  the  crea- 
tions of  a  distempered  imagination.  It  may  be  that 
much  of  the  brilliancy  of  the  orb  that  has  just  set,  is 


27 


destined  to  live  only  in  a  faint  reflection ;  since  much 
that  he  did  not  live  to  finish,  must  perish.  But  still 
we  will  swell  the  echo  of  his  fame,  and  claim,  as  ours, 
;a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  firmament  of 
science,  literature  and  theology,  and  assign  to  it  the 
position  it  merits  in  the  constellation.  Enough  sur- 
vives to  rescue  this  eulogy  from  the  charge  of  extrava- 
gance, and  to  demonstrate  that  exaggerated  panegyric 
is  not  possible  where  the  mental  and  moral  fruits  are 
so  abundant.  I  little  thought  that  mine  would  be  the 
duty  of  strowing  a  few  flowers  over  his  grave,  and 
gathering  up  the  lights  and  shades  of  a  character  that 
lent  so  much  of  sunshine  to  my  own.  But  for  your 
too  indulgent  kindness,  the  presumption  of  attempting 
a  task  so  much  above  my  ability,  would  never  have 
been  laid  to  my  charge.  I  have  labored  to  perform 
the  duty  truthfully  and  impartially,  as  I  honestly 
believe.  I  am  not  conscious  that  I  have,  in  any  one 
point,  drawn  upon  my  imagination,  or  sacrificed  his- 
toric accuracy  to  the  weakness  of  private  friendship. 

It  would  be  expecting  and  asking  too  much,  to 
dream  for  a  moment,  that  you,  whose  study  in  his- 
tory, and  habits  of  wise  and  discriminating  criticism, 
compel  you  to  regard  with  caution  the  estimate,  which 
private  friendship  is  prompted  to  place  upon  the  moral 
and  intellectual  qualities  of  another,  will  endorse  all 
that  I  have  felt  it  my  duty  to  say  in  honor  of  the 
deceased.  But  of  this  I  feel  confident.  You  will 
judge  me  by  my  facts,  and  not  condemn  the  truth  of 
the  eulogy  bestowed,  as  far  as  those  facts  sustain  it; 
while  you  will  acknowledge,  that  a  most  wonderful 
genius  has  passed  from  among  us.  "  Memor  et 
amans  "  is  the  motto,  you  will  inscribe  on  his  grave ; 
and  while  history  and  biography  remain  to  bless  the 
world  with  their  reflected  lights,  you  will  never  forget 
4 


28 


a  brother,  who  shared  your  counsels  and  deliberations, 
and  has  bequeathed  to  you  a  good  name,  unsullied  by 
a  vice  —  a  name  which  is  still  fragrant  with  the  mem- 
ories of  a  kindliness  of  heart,  and  truthfulness,  that 
can  never  fade  away.  If  he  had  lived  to  accomplish 
nothing  greater,  his  learning  sanctified  by  piety,  his 
weaving  of  science  around  the  cross,  with  a  simplicity 
so  childlike,  would  entitle  him  to  your  lasting  grati- 
tude, and  secure  him  a  place  in  your  most  honored 
list  of  names.  For  the  combination  is  not  more  beau- 
tiful, than  it  is  rare. 

It  only  remains  that,  I  say  a  word  on  his  personal 
appearance,  and  habits  of  life.  Tall,  finely  formed, 
erect,  and  easy  in  motion,  he  was  a  man  to  be 
observed.  Exceedingly  neat  and  precise  in  his 
dress,  he  never  appeared  but  with  the  air  and  bear- 
ing of  a  gentleman.  His  precision  may  have  occa- 
sionally reached  the  point  of  stiifness,  and  to  a  degree 
impaired  the  effect  of  his  personal  presence.  He 
was  scrupulously  observant  of  the  etiquette,  that  reg- 
ulates the  intercourse  of  gentlemen.  Free  in  his  con- 
verse with  his  friends,  he  was  never  familiar. 

His  library,  which  was  remarkable  both  for  the 
number  and  value  of  its  volumes,  was  the  embodi- 
ment of  taste  in  arrangement,  and  neatness  of  detail ; 
while  the  desk,  at  which  he  wrote,  was  always  in  the 
most  perfect  order.  Even  the  currency  he  circulated 
gave  evidence  of  his  refinement.  He  always  kept  a 
new  issue  by  him,  and  never  having  occasion  to 
demand  change,  he  never  had  occasion  to  use  the 
soiled  exchange  of  the  market.  Regular  in  all  his 
habits,  he  lived  by  rule,  and  never  departed  from 
the  rule  laid  down.  He  mingled  but  little  in  gene- 
ral society,  spent  his  evenings  for  the  most  part  at 
home,  and  gave  certain  fixed  hours  to  the  loved  ones 


29 


there.  He  sat  up  late.  It  was  in  those  quiet  hours 
of  the  night,  that  he  accumulated  his  vast  stores  of 
learning.  He  ate  moderately,  but  always  seemed  to 
relish  what  he  ate.  Never  idle,  he  was  always  at 
leisure.  I  was  never  denied  his  presence,  and  never . 
felt,  that  my  visit  was  an  intrusion.  His  pen,  or  book 
was  laid  aside  instantly,  while  he  greeted  me  with 
the  most  winning  gracefulness ;  and  then  we  bounded 
o'er  the  sea  of  friendship,  as  gaily,  as  though  no  work 
had  been  laid  aside.  Never  in  a  hurry,  he  lost  not  a 
moment.  He  occasionally  relaxed  his  overtaxed  ener- 
gies by  a  game  of  chess,  which  he  played  well;  and 
in  earlier  years  he  sought  relief  in  music,  in  which  he 
was  well  skilled.  He  drew  finely,  although  I  believe, 
he  never  indulged  in  colors.  He  was  but  fifty-four, 
when  he  died.  His  bodily  frame  was  full  of  vigor 
to  the  last,  never  enfeebled  by  disease,  and  never 
abused  by  excesses  of  any  sort. 

His  life,  though  one  of  intense  activity,  was  for  the 
most  part  spent  in  retirement ;  and  to  that  is  attribu- 
table the  fact,  that  but  comparatively  few  knew,  who 
he  was,  or  what  he  was.  But  to  the  world  of  science 
he  was  well  known,  and  to  the  more  prominent  spates- 
men  of  the  country.  The  coast  surveys  were  sub- 
mitted to  his  inspection,  and  all  disputed  questions 
of  geography  were  referred  to  him  for  settlement. 
On  the  questions  of  coinage,  which  have  of  late  exer- 
cised many  of  the  European  governments,  he  was 
probably  the  best  informed  man  in  the  country.  I 
regret  that  I  have  not  accurate  information  as  to  the 
actual  service  he  rendered  in  this  particular  depart- 
ment of  science.  All  that  I  know,  is,  that  he  went 
abroad,  and  was  brought  into  close  contact  with  the 
masters  of  the  mint  in  England.  The  triumphs  of 
his  genius  were  signally  displayed  before  the  com- 


30 


mittee  on  foreign  relations,  on  the  fractional  currency. 
They  sent  for  him  to  explain  it  to  them,  avowing  their 
ignorance  of  it,  and  their  impression,  that  it  was  of 
little  practical  importance.  Without  preparation,  he 
«gave  them  an  extended  and  lucid  exposition  ;  and  soon 
convinced  them,  that  it  was  of  vital  concernment  to 
the  commercial  interests  of  the  country.  He  was 
consulted  by  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  on  the 
finances,  and  was  about  to  be  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  mint,  in  Philadelphia,  when  death  closed  his 
career.  When  the  Hon.  Wm.  B.  Reed  was  about  to 
go  out,  as  Commissioner,  to  China,  Dr.  Alexander  sent 
him  the  most  elaborate  and  exact  explanation  of  the 
weights,  and  measures,  and  coinage  of  China,  which 
that  gentleman  found  to  be  of  the  greatest  possible 
benefit,  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  as  commis- 
sioner. 

Had  not  Dr.  Alexander's  modesty  and  love  of 
retirement  operated  to  keep  him  for  the  most  part 
in  private  life,  he  would  have  been  called  to  fill  offi- 
ces of  high  public  trust,  where  his  admirable  talents 
and  systematic  industry  would  have  produced  the 
happiest  results,  and  won  for  him  the  respect  and 
confidence,  which  his  presence  at  the  coast  survey 
and  the  national  treasury  never  failed  to  inspire.  I 
have  often  regretted  that  the  public  service  so 
seldom  enjoyed  the  wisdom  of  his  counsels  and  the 
benefits  of  his  systematized  labors.  And  yet,  on 
his  own  account,  I  never  regretted  the  privacy  of 
his  life;  because  it  kept  him  fresh  and  pure, 
equally  free  from  the  tricks  of  the  politician,  and 
the  fawning  that  so  often  follows  upon  the  patron- 
age of  office.  His  purity  was  a  jewel  too  precious  to 
be  imperilled  by  the  pomp  of  power,  or  the  pride  of 
station. 


31 


In  the  opening  of  this  brief  and  imperfect  sketch, 
I  said  to  you,  in  all  frankness  and  sincerity,  that  no 
one  could  more  deeply  regret  that  this  duty  had  not 
devolved  on  one  of  your  own  number ;  for  this  society 
are  not  wanting  in  all  the  requisites  that  make  up 
the  skilful  delineator  of  character,  in  discrimination, 
patience  of  investigation,  and  the  power  of  expression. 
You  have  already  placed  the  state  and  the  country 
under  obligation,  by  your  contributions  to  literature. 
I  do  well,  therefore,  to  regret  that  one  of  your  own 
fraternity  had  not  been  detailed  for  the  duty.  You, 
however,  willed  otherwise,  and  I  have  laid  on  the 
altar  of  friendship  this  unpretending  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  the  deceased.  It  bears  the  impress  of 
haste,  which  nothing  could  atone  for  but  the  honest 
plea  that  I  had  no  more  time,  as  I  had  not  the 
ability,  to  make  it  more  worthy  of  the  occasion.  In 
the  words  of  Pliny,  writing  of  one  whose  death  he 
deplored,  I  can  say,  "what  a  friend  have  I  lost!" 
I  lament  his  death  on  my  own  account,  even  more 
than  yours ;  for  I  have  "  lost  a  witness  of  my  life, 
a  guide,  a  master." 


WORKS  OF  DOCTOR  ALEXANDER. 


PUBLISHED. 

TREATISE  ON  MATHEMATICAL  INSTRUMENTS  USED  IN  SURVEYING,  LEVEL- 
LING, AND  ASTRONOMY,  by  F.  "W.  SIMMS.  Edited  with  copious  additions. 
Baltimore  :  1835,  8vo.  1839,  8vo.  1848,  8vo. 

TREATISE  ON  LEVELLING,  by  F.  W.  SIMMS,  with  large  additions.  Baltimore: 
1838,  8vo. 

CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  A  HISTORY  OP  THE  METALLURGY  OF  IRON.  Part  I.  Bal- 
timore: 1840,  8vo.  pp.  xxiv,  264.  Plates. 

CONTRIBUTIONS,  etc.     Part  II.     Baltimore:  1842,  8vo. 

INTROITS;  OR,  ANTE-COMMUNION  PSALMS  FOR  THE  SUNDAYS  AND  HOLY- 
DAYS  THROUGHOUT  THE  YEAR.  Philadelphia:  1844,  12mo. 

REPORT  ON  STANDARDS  OF  WEIGHTS  AND  MEASURES  FOR  THE  STATE  OF 
MARYLAND.  1846,  8vo.  pp.  iv,  213. 

UNIVERSAL  DICTIONARY  OF  WEIGHTS  AND  MEASURES,  ANCIENT  AND  MOD- 
ERN. Baltimore :  1850.  Royal  8vo.  pp.  viii,  158. 

CATENA  DOMINICA.     Philadelphia:  12mo. 

REPORTS  ON  THE  NEW  MAP  OF  MARYLAND;  ANNUAL,  FROM  1838  TO  1840. 
Annapolis, —  Public  Printer. 

VARIOUS  PAPERS, —  to  be  found  in  the  Scientific  Journals  of  America,  Eng- 
land, France  and  Germany. 


IN  MANUSCRIPT. 

A  DICTIONARY  OF  ENGLISH  SURNAMES.     12  vols.    8vo. 
ANCIENT  ROMAN  SURNAMES.     1  vol.    8vo. 
GREEK  ONOMATOLOGY.     1  vol.    8vo. 

A  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  LENNI-LENAPE,  OR  DELAWARE 
INDIANS.     4to. 

A  CONCORDANCE  AND  ANALYTIC  INDEX  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  COMMON  PRAYER. 
2  vols.     8vo. 

A  HANDY  BOOK  OF  PARLIAMENTARY  PRACTICE.    8vo. 

THE  HYMNS  OF  MARTIN  LUTHER,  TRANSLATED  INTO  ENGLISH,  with  Notes. 
8vo. 

SUSPIRIA  SANCTORUM.— A  series  of  Sonnets  for  Holy-days  all  through  the 
year.     8vo. 

INTROITUS,  SIVE  PSALMI  DAVIDICI.    8vo. 


* 


•CALIFOfi^ 

<©l    fy^i  f(Tt 


